Punch and Monkey Suits
by WhatATragicComedy
Summary: Future fic. Based around the adult kids of some of SG1's members though it does have some Jack POV. One shot of a much longer story I'm trying to right. Please read and review.


This is a one shot from a much longer story that I don't think I'll _ever_ actually finish. But it's set far in the future and since it's part of a much more detailed story still in my head, I have several things that need explaining.

The main character in this one shot is Logan Mitchell-the son of Cameron Mitchell and Jennifer (Hailey) Mitchell.

Jack and Sam are married and their children are Nathan, Emma, Adam, and Anna.

Also, Janet is alive. She was found in what would have been like Season 11 or 12 of SG1, having been kept prisoner all that time by Ba'al who had resurrected her in a sarcophagus to run experiments on her. By her medical expertise,Ba'al and herself found a cure for aging and now people look an average age of anywhere between 30 and 40.

I'm not specific about the war that is going on in this story because I still haven't figured out what kind of enemy I want them to have. If anybody wants to offer any ideas, I'd love to hear them. Everything I can think of has been done to death.

There are a few curse words scattered throughout this story so consider yourself warned.

Also, I do not own anything to do with Stargate obviously and I don't get paid to do this. Blah blah blah.

Now on with the story.

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He'd survived two years. It didn't sound like a whole lot, but when you fought aliens for a living, two years was alot more than some people got.

Logan hated this time of year. It was time for the SGC's annual shindig. It was supposed to improve morale, but with the war going the way it was, there wasn't alot to celebrate. More like a lot to regret. Many lives had been lost. Logan angrily held back tears as he thought of Kuger. All this stupid party did was remind him of all the bad things that had happened this year. And worst of all, this time around he had to wear his blues.

The Stargate Program had been up and running for 50 years now. The big wigs wanted a huge formal affair thrown and they got what they wanted. All past and present SG personnel were welcome to come, minus the crew staying back at the mountain. Lucky bastards. Logan would gladly stay back there in his BDU's rather than in this stuffy thing.

A slight sense of guilt washed over him. Logan was proud of the uniform. Proud of being part of the Air Force. But the damned thing was heavy, starchy, and made people look at him like he was somebody important, which was ridiculous. Buttoning up his jacket, Logan wondered if he should have gone ahead and rented a tux like Emma had suggested because she was tired of his 'whining'. He was so not whining. But Logan figured a tux was just another monkey suit that he'd be uncomfortable in and he'd have to _pay_ to wear that one. Besides, Emma said she thought he looked good in his dress blues. Not that that had any impact on his decision. None at all.

Thirty minutes later found Logan standing in the packed banquet hall, holding some questionable tasting punch, bored out of his mind and ready to go home.

"Why the long face, son?"

"Ya know how I love getting dressed up..."

"Ah, come on. It's a party. Go find yourself a girl and dance a little."

Logan grimaced at the idea. He was not in a mood to dance.

"Your father's right, Logan. And I happen to know of a certain girl who wouldn't mind at all if you asked her to dance."

Logan rolled his eyes. His mother, the matchmaker. Scary thought.

Knowing there was nothing he could do but play along with her game, Logan asked who she was talking about.

"Captain Naomi Henderston."

Logan's eyebrows rose in interest. He'd never put any particular effort in getting to know her, but Naomi was most definitely a very pretty woman.

"Don't look now but she's eying you at 3 o'clock."

Of course, Cameron and Logan both automatically turned in the direction she mentioned, causing Jennifer to role her eyes dramatically at the two brown haired, blue eyed men.

"I said NOT to look!"

Yep, sure enough, there was the Captain in a pale pink knee length dress and she was looking right at him. When she realized she had been caught, she smiled and a slight flush came to her cheeks. One thing Logan did like about these parties is that it was one of the rare times he saw the women from base with their hair down. And he had to say, Naomi's shoulder length blonde hair was calling to him.

"Well, are you you gonna go ask her to dance or are you planning on standing here til ya grow roots?"

Scowling at his father, Logan handed him his cup and walked in Naomi's direction.

Naomi accepted his offer to dance with a shy smile that Logan couldn't help but grin a little at. She really was pretty cute. Maybe he should ask her out sometime. Maybe. For now he just needed to focus on the dance. Try not to say anything stupid. He had a bad habit of doing that.

At the end of the dance, Logan was quite proud of himself. He hadn't ended up saying anything remotely weird and when he returned her to her group of friends, she gave him that same shy smile. Maybe this night wouldn't turn out so bad after all.

Logan turned back to find his parents and his cup of punch. He wasn't really sure why he wanted it back though. It reminded him of that stuff from PX9-52 somethingerather that ended up leaving him high as a kite for a week. Followed by a week of worshiping the porcelain god religiously.

One Colonel Jennifer Mitchell was smiling very smugly when he returned.

"Careful, Mom, you're on the road to becoming one of those meddling mothers."

Her face dropped. Jennifer Mitchell prided herself on not being one of those overbearing mothers bent on controlling her children's lives. "I am not!"

"I dunno, honey. You have been plotting about Henderson for a while now."

Jennifer glared up her husband from her petite 5'4 frame. "Traitor."

She sighed.

"I'm not asking you to marry her. I just happened to hear some gossip about how much she likes you and thought I'd pass it along. Now that's not really overstepping, is it?"

"No, Mom. It's not."

"Good. Now I want a turn to dance with my amazingly handsome son."

"No, Mom. You're the one who looks amazing."

"She always does."

Jennifer smiled at her husband lovingly before Logan led her to the dance floor. Logan let his mom do most of the talking as they danced. Evidently some scientist had caused one of her experiments to blow up and it splattered thick orange acid goo all over her lab. Logan feared for the man. For someone so small, his mother was not a woman to be messed with. Having gotten into a similar situation when he was a kid which involved eggs and brand new living furniture, Logan knew that death glare was an understatement.

The song ended and Logan walked with his mom over to where his dad was still standing.

Cameron turned to his wife with a regal bow and stuck out his hand.

"May I have this dance, milady?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes but was unable to hold back her grin as she placed her hand in his.

As they walked off, Logan heard his mother say, "You're still not the King of England, Cam."

"Hey, it should so be put on my resume."

Logan shook his head and laughed to himself. After all these years, his parents still had a pretty great relationship. Considering almost no one married anymore, let alone stayed together for the long term, that said alot. Logan personally still believed in the idea of marriage. To love someone so much that you'd want to give yourself to that person forever; it was a nice thought.

While still thinking along those lines, Logan's eyes landed on the entrance to the banquet hall and couldn't move past them.

Standing in the doorway was Emma O'Neill. And my god, but, did she look beautiful. Her loose dark brown curls twirled delicately down past her shoulders, leading Logan's eyes to her navy blue dress. The straps wrapped around the back of her neck in what Logan was pretty sure she'd once told him was a halter style and the length of the dress brought his eyes all the way to the floor. The way the dress hugged to her curves were doing dangerous things to Logan's mind and he had to look away before his mind wasn't his only concern. The furthest he got was her eyes. They were a deep chocolaty brown and yet Logan would swear they sparkled. Seeing her mega-watt smile left him unable to think of anything at all.

She spotted him and Logan did his best to look like he hadn't been staring. Still with that dang blasted beautiful smile on her face, she gave him her cheeky little finger wave and Logan couldn't stop a little grin from escaping. His hands in his pockets, Logan nodded as she moved to walk towards him.

Emma didn't get three steps before someone asked her to dance. Logan knew he never liked that Garraway fellow.

Two hours later and he still hadn't gotten so much as a chance to say hi to Emma. Not that he was going out of his way to go talk to her. In fact, Logan was pretty much planted in the same spot he had been earlier. He'd caught up with some old buddies and danced a few times, but each time he found himself alone, Logan couldn't help watching her.

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Jack sat back in his chair, settling in for some people watching and wishing he had a beer. He watched as Nathan twirled Sam on the dance floor and smiled when he heard her giggle. Fifty years and that woman's giggle still got to him. He shook his head. Hard to believe it'd really been that long. In all honesty, he should have died a long time ago. If not for the countless times he could have been and actually was killed in the line of duty, the simple fact that he was 95 years old should mean he was well dead and buried by now. Thanks to Janet and however horrific to think, Ba'al, Jack was getting to be with Sam alot longer than he'd ever dreamed possible.

"Hiya, Jack."

"Well, hello there, little miss Moriah. And how are you?"

"I's good. Me and Adam are getting drinks for Mama and Daddy."

"Well, ya best get to it then."

The four year old snapped off a surprisingly smart salute with a very serious "Yes, sir" that almost had Jack in a fit of laughter. His son took the little girl's hand and continued to walk on with the President's daughter. The two had been introduced earlier in the evening and Moriah had practically glued herself to Adam's leg for the remainder of the evening.

Shaking his head, Jack went back to his task of people watching. His next found targets were both together, talking with George Hammond. Emma and Anna were both laughing with their honorary Grandpa, when Jack was interrupted by Jonas Quinn.

"I wonder what's up with Mitchell."

Jack looked over and saw Cam and his wife sitting at the next table. No matter how long he'd known her, Jack couldn't see Jen Mitchell without thinking about when she was just Cadet Hailey back on that bug planet. But from what Jack could tell right now, both Cam and Jen looked perfectly fine.

"What do you mean?"

Jonas followed Jack's gaze. "Oh, no, not Cameron. I meant Logan."

While Jack tried to look in the direction Jonas was pointing, he couldn't help but think that last names were useless anymore. Damn kids were taking over everything. Hell, Teal'c says O'Neill on base and five people turn to look at him.

Logan was looking off at something towards the left side of the room, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other holding a neglected punch cup. No wonder about that though. That was some seriously odd tasting punch if you asked him. Trying to follow Logan's gaze, Jack was surprised when his eyes landed on his own daughter. Quickly making sure that he was seeing that correctly, Jack frowned back at the boy. What was he doing staring at his daughter?

Jack was a little unnerved when he realized he recognized that look. He should. Jack had given Sam the same look for close to nine years when he couldn't have her.

Jack fidgeted in his seat. What was Mitchell's boy doing interested in his daughter? Sam had mentioned that she thought Emma and Logan were together a while back. Jack, of course, had put the fear of God into him after that. Jack knew that Logan was a good man but Emma had never said anything about them being together so Jack had forgotten about it. Now, though, Jack knew. Logan Mitchell was in love with his daughter.

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It had been a year. A whole year. And he was still hung up on her. Never in his whole life had Logan been so caught up on one person. Sometimes he could still taste her cherry chapstick. 'Wonder if she still wears it?' he thought. He missed her. He saw her practically everyday and yet he missed her. He really missed the first thing he saw in the morning being her wild curls. He loved the way she looked when she slept. And the way she would wake up a few minutes later having felt him watching her and give him a sleepy little smile. Knowing that he would never get to see that again made his heart physically ache. Pathetic, Mitchell. Really pathetic.

"Go ask her to dance, Mitchell."

The quiet voice behind him almost caused him to jump. Turning his head, Logan was surprised to see none other than General O'Neill.

"Sir?"

"You heard me."

Logan glanced briefly at Emma and then back at the General. Looking at him, Logan realized that the man knew. Was he that painfully obvious?

Taking a renewed interest in his cup, Logan said, "Sorry, sir. I can't do that."

And he couldn't. That road would only lead him to more pain and he knew it. Emma didn't feel the same way about him. Plain and simple.

Turning to face his 'uncle', Logan looked briefly at his watch before finishing by saying, "In fact, think I'll be calling it a night. Got an early start at the mountain tomorrow."

The General nodded his head in what Logan saw as understanding. He wasn't sure how exactly but he felt like the man understood him in a way that meant he'd been there before. Maybe that punch was starting to get to him. Before he could dwell more on that thought, Logan tossed his cup and headed out of the banquet hall.

Jack watched the young man leave and he saw that as Logan passed Emma, she followed him with her eyes, a concerned expression knit on her face, until he was out of sight.


End file.
